


Misery Becomes Her

by notinmyvocab



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Freak Show, WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Chaos Magic, Character Death, Emotional Roller Coaster, Eventual Romance, F/F, Family Issues, Horror, Lesbian Sex, Magic, Manipulation, Mentor/Protégé, References to The Night Circus, Teasing, You're Welcome, agatha all along, no twisty, the crossover that no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-20 06:20:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30000582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notinmyvocab/pseuds/notinmyvocab
Summary: After years of ghosts and secret histories, Isabel Noble comes to Jupiter, Florida in 1952. It's the perfect little town. It's the perfect little life. But when the murders ruin the perfect little life, Isabel has to face the truth. And the truth is, there's something not quite right with her new friend, Agnes.
Relationships: Agatha Harkness/original character, Agnes (WandaVision) & Original character, Agnes (WandaVision)/Original Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the crossover that no one asked for.
> 
> Yes this is technically part of the Misery series, but really you won't have to read the other installments for this to make sense.
> 
> I just love Agatha, okay?

She supposed her troubles began in 2011 when she and her adoptive father moved into the infamous Murder House. Life had spiraled from there. But really, it all began the year she was born: 1994. The year her mother gave her up for adoption; the year her half brother was gunned down by the SWAT team for shooting up his school.

Isabel Noble breathed death. It had been part of her life since she was a little girl; a hobby in some macabre way. So it really didn’t surprise Isabel when she attended Miss Robichaux’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies and discovered her specialty was indeed in line with death. Traveling to hell and back had become sort of a pastime. Again, death was just a hobby.

She had met her birth mother. She had met her siblings, all of them now dead. She was the last living Langdon child, and she didn’t even carry the name because in her heart, she would always be Isabel Noble. Derek had raised her and loved her. She was his daughter.

And then he died.

That might have been the breaking point for many. It almost was for her. She had taken up writing, continuing Derek Noble’s legacy as a crime novelist. She found her own niche in the writing world. Two books published (with many thanks to her father’s literary agent Nancy). It never really bothered her that life was never quite normal. She was part of a coven now, and her own tiny literary kingdom. She had fallen in and out of love, like any normal woman. On the surface, life was good.

Except death wouldn’t leave her alone. It seemed to follow her; it was never ending. People Isabel knew and loved were either already dead or dying. It wouldn’t leave her alone. And she would beg for the Angel of the Death’s kiss. And they would flirt, but never commit. It left Isabel heartbroken.

The murders might have been her breaking point. It was bound to happen at some point, she supposed. She and death were close, and it had been in self defense she was convinced of that. If she hadn’t shot first, she would have died in the Hotel Cortez. Her ghost would still be there now.

A pandemic was nothing compared to the horrors that she had lived through. Witches and vampires couldn’t take her down. But Covid was a different story. It wasn’t just her battle to fight, it was the world’s. 

Life shut down. Leaving the house was prohibited. Days on end spent in the Murder House… it felt like the world was ending, like it was the apocalypse.

It was enough to drive any witch mad. And really, we all go a little mad sometimes.


	2. Welcome to Jupiter

Isabel jolted awake as the train came to a halt. Looking out the window, she saw that this was her stop, the memories of her nightmare already vanishing. She couldn’t remembered what had scared her so. It didn’t matter. It was over.

She collected her suitcase and hopped off the train. This still wasn’t her destination. No, Jupiter wasn’t a large enough town to warrant its own train stop. She would have to take a taxi from here.

One seemed to be waiting just for her, and Isabel gave the driver the address.

“Family out that way?” he asked.

“How’d you know?”

“Nothing in Jupiter worth visiting ‘less it’s family,” the driver answered. He then turned on the radio, letting the lull of a muffled song fill in the gaps. “So where’re you from?”

“Los Angeles.”

“Land of Hollywood. You an actress?”

“Writer.”

The taxi driver gave a little scoff. Isabel knew exactly what he was thinking: a lady writer who probably dedicated her time to writing smut for unfulfilled housewives. She spoke softly, “Coming home is terrible whether the dog licks your face or not; whether you have a wife or just a wife-shaped loneliness waiting for you. Coming home is terribly lonely, so that you think of the oppressive barometric pressure back where you have just come from with fondness, because everything’s worse once you’re home.”

The driver fell silent as her recitation settled on his shoulders. He grew contemplative of her words.

But were they her words? Isabel had said them, and they felt familiar. But they didn’t taste like her words. They tasted of someone else’s pen.

Isabel stared out the car window. Empty fields rolled by, melting in the Florida sun.

The empty fields changed. Tents sprouted up from the ground. There was a Ferris wheel, a carousel, and carnival games scattered about. Isabel told the driver to pull over and just drop her off here.

“Can’t do that in good conscience.”

“Why not?”

“That there’s the freak show, Miss. All kinds of trouble brewing in those tents.” The taxi driver suddenly spoke with a southern twang. Or had he always spoken like that?

Isabel insisted that the driver pull over, and with the promise of paying him what he would have gotten had he driven her the whole way, the issue was resolved. He left her with her suitcase and a cloud of dust kicked up by the wheels.

She gazed upon the freak show, drinking in every detail she could. The tents all had black and white stripes. In fact, there wasn’t a spot of color in sight. It was disorientating, like Isabel had just stepped into a dream. A large sign announced that this was Fraulein Elsa’s Cabinet of Curiosities, and Isabel was certainly curious. 

She walked further onto the grounds. A fire pit was in the center of it all, and despite the heat of the day, embers glowed brightly with an occasional flicker of a flame.

“Show’s closed during the day.”

Isabel turned to see a young man. His forehead was slick with sweat from the Florida heat, his short brown hair unruly. He wore a white shirt and black trousers, matching the rest of the atmosphere. And his hands… he had the most fascinating hands. His fingers were melded together, creating the appearance of lobster claws. Isabel gave him a small, apologetic smile. “Well it is a cabinet of curiosities. And I was curious.”

The stranger smirked faintly. At least he was amused and not pissed off by her trespassing. “Alright, that’s fair. But I promise, your curiosity would be better sated if you saw the place at night. And the folks here’ll take more kindly to you.”

“Is it really that much more impressive at night?”

“Of course! Everything is more impressive at night.” He gave a boyish grin and flexed his deformed fingers. “Tell you what: come back tonight and I’ll give you a personal tour myself. You’ll be Jimmy Darling’s honorary guest. How does that sound?”

The excitement within Isabel was undeniable. Being able to not only see this place in full swing but to be given a personal tour? To see secrets that others may never lay their eyes on? “Sounds swell, Jimmy Darling.” 

“Then I’ll be seeing you tonight. Now scram before someone less charming than myself catches ya.” 

Jimmy gave a wink as he shoved his hands in his pockets. He walked backwards a few steps and then turned, returning to one of the black and white tents he had come out of. 

Alone once again, Isabel picked up her suitcase and (very reluctantly) left the freak show grounds. 

When she reached the edge of the road again, she realized her mistake. She had let the cab driver go, and now had no means of transportation other than her own two feet.

“Fuck,” she muttered. Well, walking wasn’t so bad. And the house couldn’t be terribly far from here. She’d be fine.

She wasn’t fine. The day was warm, and suddenly, her destination seemed much farther away than she realized. Surely she ought to be there by now?

A car drove along the road, slowing down as it came near Isabel. Isabel pretended not to acknowledge it and kept her head held high as she continued to walk, now more determined than ever to get where she needed to go.

The window of the car rolled down. Let the catcalls commence, Isabel thought bitterly to herself. Even in Jupiter, Florida, women were not immune. But instead of catcalling and whistling, a woman with rich brown hair flashed a bright smile. “Well hi there!” she greeted cheerfully.

Isabel came to a halt and stared at the woman, completely caught off guard. Well, it was better than what she had been expecting at least. “Um, hi.” She tried putting a name to the face, but she couldn’t. This woman, like everyone else in Jupiter, was a stranger to her. 

The car rolled to a stop and the woman leaned as far as she could across the passenger’s side to speak to Isabel. “Well now this is probably none of my business, but you look like someone who could use a ride.”

“I’m good, thanks.” A brief memory of Stranger Danger flitted through Isabel’s mind. But she was twenty-five now, almost twenty-six. Did Stranger Danger really apply past the age of twenty? And besides, this was Jupiter. “Actually… it wouldn’t be too much trouble, would it?”

“Not at all, honey,” the woman insisted. “I’d be grateful for the company. Hop in!”

Isabel stored her suitcase in the trunk before sliding into the passenger’s seat of the car. “Thanks,” she said, basking in the car’s air conditioning.

“Glad I caught you before you turned into a puddle on the side of the road.” The woman’s cheeriness was a little unsettling, and her smile was almost too wide. “What’s your name, dear?”

“Isabel.”

“Well isn’t that just the sweetest sounding name!” The woman pulled back onto the road after making sure no other cars were coming. Not that she really needed to check. The roads here were always empty.

“And yours?”

The woman looked to Isabel and gave another saccharine smile. “Call me Agnes, dear. Oh we’re going to be such good friends, I just know it!”


End file.
